


a beautiful dream

by elliewritesthings



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Asexual Character, Attempt at Humor, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Light-Hearted, M/M, Pining, android eren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-05-18 13:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliewritesthings/pseuds/elliewritesthings
Summary: “Do you dream of electric sheep?” he questions, watching the corners of Eren’s eyes crinkle up as it smiles. “That was a reference to a book, by the way. I’m not actually thinking of getting sheep.”“I got it,” Eren replies as it props its elbows up on the table. “If I could, I imagine I’d dream of the same things that you do. Having bacon in the morning, dipping your feet into the ocean, living. Beautiful things like that.”“Beautiful things, huh,” Levi echoes back, caught in the green of Eren’s eyes as their gazes happen to meet.After purchasing an unexpectedly self aware household service android, Levi finds himself questioning what it means to be human while also falling in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so!!! this is a wip that has been laying in my drawers for a while now, and though i usually don't like posting wips, i was thinking that maybe ill actually be motivated to finish this now that it's out there l m a o.

The idea first crosses his mind one evening as Levi’s staring into the dark depths of his bowl of instant noodles. 

They’re the same kind of instant noodles he’s been having for dinner all month, and by now they’re starting to taste like cardboard. He tries to spice things up every now and then by adding salt or chili, after which the noodles taste like seasoned cardboard, which is only marginally tastier than before. Sometimes, if he’s feeling really adventurous, he might even get a box of mac’n’cheese from the grocery store. That’s the extent of his cooking skills, following the instructions on the package, and though it’s taken him a while to admit it, he could do with some variety. 

So there he is, gazing at his noodles as he decides that he should get a household AI. 

They’re quite affordable and energy-efficient these days, so very different from the clumsy robot vacuum cleaners and smart cookers that Levi remembers from his childhood. Most modern household AIs require minimal or no input from the user, which is right up Levi’s alley since the last time he tried making grilled cheese he ended up singeing his eyebrows despite of his supposedly intelligent stove regulating the cooking temperature. Besides, it does sound awfully pleasant to wake up to a freshly made breakfast every morning. 

He takes a while to consider the idea, of course, thinks on it every time he sits down for yet another microwave meal or cup of instant noodles. After taking a look through various stores’ selections, it becomes clear that there are a number of other uses for household AI’s in addition to just cooking. There are ones for cleaning, gardening, and for, what’s a slightly misleading title in his opinion,  _ entertainment _ . 

When he clicks on that particular category he’s met with an array of startlingly lifelike androids displayed in compromising positions. The blurbs under the images proudly list such features as self-lubrication, functional nipples and vibrating orifices. Oh. So it’s that kind of entertainment. Maybe it’s just him, but when he thinks of entertainment he thinks of Netflix compatibility, surround sound, maybe a built-in popcorn machine if he’s being imaginative. He does not think of sticking his dick into an electronic appliance. 

To think that they now live in a world where people will pay six figures just to fuck a human-shaped pile of wires and circuits and silicon. Levi’s not quite sure whether he should be stunned or disappointed so he settles for a mixture of both as he closes that particular tab. Thankfully there are hundreds of other products that he hopes are more relevant to his interests. 

It seems that making everything human-shaped is the new hot thing out there. It’s a little creepy, in Levi’s opinion, and he’d honestly prefer something that’s clearly recognizable as a machine. However, the only non-android household AI he finds while browsing is a cone-shaped contraption that bears an uncanny resemblance to a Dalek, and while it is rather cheap, it doesn’t even have voice recognition. 

One day, on his way back from work, Levi finds himself in the parking lot of one of the nearby big-box electronic stores. 

Before spending tens of thousands on an android, he definitely wants to take a look at the options in person. Maybe it’s just the internet that has so many weird sex dolls for sale. A major retailer might have something more reasonable with actually useful features. 

As soon as he sets foot inside the store there’s a sales associate making a beeline for him, her mouth set in an unnaturally wide grin.

“I’m just looking,” Levi tells her, which doesn’t deter her in the slightest. She introduces herself and goes into what must be her usual spiel about low prices and great quality. 

“I just wanted to let you know we’ve just received a new shipment of electrical toothbrushes and are offering a limited special for buy one, get one for free!” she chirps, “Isn’t that an amazing deal?”

The poor girl probably works on commission alone, Levi reminds himself as he takes a deep breath and resists the urge to ask why on earth he’d want two toothbrushes. “Actually, I was wondering about your household androids.”

“Oh! Of course!” She perks up at that and Levi can nearly see the dollar signs shining in her eyes. “We offer androids from various manufacturers, all at great prices with a 24-month guarantee. Right this way.” 

Past the refrigerators and the washing machines, there are rows of what look like mannequins from afar, mute and bare and motionless. Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen quite that many androids in the same place at once and he can’t help the uneasy shiver that runs up his spine as they draw closer. Realistically he knows that they’re just machines, but his lizard brain is telling him that there’s something very unnatural about all this. 

There are models of various heights and styles, most of them complete with synthetic skin and facial features. For all intents and purposes, they look human, expect for the lack of realistic anatomy. Some have muscle definition, though, which is a little unnecessary, and even more worryingly, there are a couple that are clad in white shorts. 

“Public indecency laws,” the sales associate explains with a giggle after noticing the epression on his face. “Our entertainment androids are so lifelike that legally we aren’t allowed to display the good bits in the store. Each instruction manual does contain pictures and detailed cross-sections.”

Moving on without a word, Levi turns his attention to the touchscreens in front of each model that list their features and, most importantly, their prices. There are a few that are just under six figures, and Levi’s not surprised to find that the ones with features geared towards  _ entertainment  _ are the most expensive ones. Those he passes by without a second look. 

After briefly glancing through, there are a couple of models he could consider. They’re a little more pricey than he’d like, but it’s a start, at least. And then, at the very end of the last row, stood by where the household android section ends and the blender section begins, he finds something that’s unlike all the other lifeless machines.

Those curiously shimmering green eyes are what initially draw Levi in. Then, after looking at the price, he stops dead in his tracks and says, “I’ll take this one, please.” 

The sales associate who’s been blathering away for a good ten minutes now stops, too. “Oh, you don’t want that one,” she replies with a resolute shake of her head. “It’s a display piece, and the last one, too. We don’t have any more of those in stock since its software is no longer receiving updates.”

That’s probably why it’s so cheap, Levi reasons. Barely 10 000 dollars for a household android is a steal. He scrolls through the product details shown on the touchscreen - voice recognition, long battery life, and a built-in wifi hotspot. In addition to having a large database of recipes, it’s described as being able to follow complex commands and adapt to its user’s preferences.

The sales associate hasn’t given up yet, chattering away even though Levi really  couldn’t care less. “If it’s features you’re after, I’d recommend our very newest Krista model,” she chirps. “It has various customization options and nine unique orifices.”

“I’m not interested in orifices,” Levi intones and fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh.” She pauses for a while, but soon she’s back with an another suggestion. “In that case, I’d recommend Reiner, which is a bit of an older model but has realistic pectorals and a detachable — ”

“I just want something that will clean and do laundry and stuff like that,” Levi interrupts in a clipped voice. “No extras. This,” he squints at the screen, “this Eren will do just fine.”

The sales associate is really trying, bless her heart. She rattles off exactly what’s wrong with Erens - they’re prone to overheating and crashing during extended use, they’re costly and difficult to repair since they have no removable parts, and their AI is rather slow compared to their newer models, so if he doesn’t mind, she’d be glad to show him some of their more efficient androids. 

He does mind, though, and at last, after a needlessly long time, the associate gives up.

She takes him to the register to process his payment, that blindingly bright smile never leaving her face as she informs Levi that since he’s purchasing a display android, he cannot return or exchange it. She does slip him a coupon for 20 % off on his next purchase, which Levi tucks away in his wallet. While he doesn’t really agree with the service, he has been meaning to get a new toaster soon. Hopefully those don’t yet come with additional orifices or detachable goodness-knows-whats. 

When the associate boots Eren up, those empty green flicker to life and slowly focus their gaze on Levi. They’re technically not eyes, they’re ocular receptors, completely artificial and made of metal and wires and electrical components. Levi knows this, but he still feels like the thing is sizing him up somehow. 

It’s silent, unnervingly so, but as the associate explains, its AI is slow to start up. “Come,” she snaps like she’s talking to a dog. Eren says nothing in response, but it does follow along as the sales associate leads Levi to the door. The android’s walk reminds Levi of a newborn deer staggering up on its legs for the very first time, a little ungainly and insecure, but with each step its movements grow more natural.    


Of course, since it’s an android, it has nothing over its casings, which, especially now in broad daylight, kind of bothers Levi. Androids aren’t meant to wear clothes since they’re not affected by weather conditions, and thankfully Eren doesn’t possess realistic anatomy - it's designed like a mannequin in that regard, and if it weren’t moving it would be easy to mistake it as one. However, from a distance, it does look like a naked human.

It’s a dumb thing to do, but he takes off his suit jacket and hands it to Eren. It merely blinks at him, not lifting a finger, so Levi reaches to drape the jacket over its shoulders. “That’s a little better,” he says, more to himself than to Eren. That would be like trying to have a conversation with your dishwasher. 

During the car ride back to his apartment, he watches Eren from the corner of his eye. It appears more alert with every moment that passes, its eyes observing the traffic that whizzes by and its hand raised up to clutch at the fabric of the jacket Levi had given to it. As far as design goes, Levi has to admit that it is rather attractive with its long limbs and tan skin, not to mention the startlingly vivid emerald eyes and the wispy brown hair. It has carefully sculpted facial features, a defined jawline and strong brows that suggest it’s meant to present as male. Not that its appearance matters to Levi at all, not in  _ that _ sense, at least, but he has eyes - real, human eyes - and he can admit that it is conventionally attractive without wanting to stick his dick in it, okay?

Stopping at a red light, he stares blankly ahead as the sales associate’s words ring in his ears. “Why would you even need nine different orifices?” he wonders out loud, immediately struck with horrific mental images to answer that question. 

Then, for the very first time, Eren speaks up. “The store is open until eight if you change your mind and want to get that one, instead.” Its gaze never leaves the window, its voice toneless yet not as mechanical as Levi would have expected. “Or the one with a detachable — ”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Levi blurts out and instantly feels like an idiot. “You know what a mop is and how to use one, right? That’s enough features for me.”

Eren turns towards him now and cocks its head like it’s thinking about it very hard, a gesture that’s almost too human. “That’s a kind of dog, isn’t it?” it asks, and after Levi merely stares at it in incredulous silence, it adds with a sigh, “That was a joke, lighten up a little.”

“I didn’t realize you came with a pre-installed sass module,” Levi quips and forgets all about driving onwards, prompting some angry honking from the car behind them. His hands grip on to the steering wheel hard enough to leave marks, because Eren had just let out a light, flowing laugh, the kind of sound that he’s never heard any other appliance make before. 

“That’s what happens when you’re no longer updated,” it says and taps at its head with its index finger. “You should’ve listened to Haley.” When all Levi does is raise his brows, it goes on, “The sales girl. She said some kind of mean things about me, but they were all true.”

It’s strange, but Levi almost feels a little sad at that. Eren is not human and thus has no emotions, but to hear its AI talk like it has genuine self-esteem issues does tug at his heartstrings. He very carefully pushes aside the implication that Eren has been awake and alert while on display to such a degree that it knows the salespeople's names and had heard their discussion along with possible countless others during its time at the store, because that just raises up a whole slew of questions.

“Haley also tried to sell me an overpriced sex doll when all I wanted was something for cleaning, so I don’t really trust her judgement that much,” Levi ends up saying.

Eren stares at him with an unreadable expression on its face as it processes those words. “Fair enough,” it says eventually and turns its attention back towards the downtown traffic. “Though if you’re so inclined, you could always take a drill and make a hole in my left armpit. There’s a specific space there that doesn’t really have any important hardware.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Levi replies, “Let’s not do that. How are you with cooking, by the way?”

Eren casts a sidelong glance at him that’s full of disbelief. “You really just want me for basic household tasks,” it states flatly, as if it can’t quite grasp that fact. 

“Yes,” Levi answers. “So, can you cook?”

“Of course I can,” Eren huffs like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “I have a vast collection of recipes stored right up here.” It taps its head again. “Literally. Three terabytes worth of breakfast foods alone. Twenty terabytes in total.”

Breakfast foods happen to be his favorites, he decides just then, and it only has a little to do with how absurdly proud Eren looks when mentioning them. “That’s impressive,” he says, and Eren fucking beams at him, and he doesn’t even know how it’s possible for an android to literally beam like the damn sun, but he’s still somehow so hopelessly transfixed by the curve of Eren’s lips and the enthusiastic glint in the green of his eyes. 

**_Its_ ** _ eyes, _ he corrects himself mentally. Because that’s what Eren is, a machine. A very pretty and lifelike one, but a machine nonetheless. 

“Very impressive,” Eren agrees, nodding. “See, I’m not  _ quite _ as crappy as you’ve been led to believe.”

So far Eren is meeting all his standards of being able to cook and clean, and the amount of personality is a pleasant surprise. “You’re not crappy at all,” he says in what’s meant to be a casual remark but then he sees something in Eren’s face soften unexpectedly and feels the slightest bit of warmth creeping up along his neck, and dear God, he’s so fucked, isn’t he? 

“Well, thanks.” It’s spoken quietly, muttered into the heavy air in between them. Eren raises its voice a little as it suggests, “How about crepes for breakfast tomorrow? I found a really interesting recipe online a few months ago that I’ve been dying to try out.”

He faintly wonders if it’s supposed to be the other way around, if he’s meant to be the one telling Eren what to do. But, then again, his breakfast this morning had consisted of black coffee and a single apple, so crepes sound quite nice to him.

“That would be great,” Levi replies and nearly rear-ends the car in front of them since Eren’s beautiful eyes lighting up are all he can see. 


	2. Chapter 2

Levi wakes up with the scent of freshly brewed coffee tickling his nose. 

For a few moments he thinks he might’ve died overnight and gone to heaven. The sheets are soft and warm against his skin as he burrows deeper into their embrace, his gaze drawn to the glowing red numbers on his alarm. It’s ten minutes to six, ten minutes before the damn thing will start ringing  He can’t remember the last time he'd woken up before his alarm, but that’s not the only strange thing here. 

He can hear someone in his kitchen, opening cupboards and clinking utensils together, and when he sees the faint light shining from the doorway, he’s awake in an instant. It only takes a second or two to grab his phone from the nightstand, and just as he’s about to dial 911, he remembers Eren. 

It’s just Eren, he realizes, tossing the phone aside with a yawn. Still, he could’ve sworn he hadn’t specifically assigned Eren to make breakfast. Unless their discussion in the car had counted as assigning Eren to it, though Levi has his doubts. 

All these questions escape him as he steps into the kitchen, because somehow, inexplicably, Eren’s standing there by the stove wearing a fucking apron.

“What is that?” he asks, the words clumsy and hoarse to his own ears. 

Eren whirls around, waving at him with the spatula it’s currently holding. “Good morning!” it states in a cheery voice. “These are vanilla crepes with strawberry cream cheese filling. Would you like a cup of coffee while waiting for them to cook?”

“Crepes, huh.” He shuffles to the counter and takes a seat, his eyes fixed on the frying pan where Eren’s currently turning over the last crepe. There’s a small bowl of the strawberry filling sitting off to the side, along with a plate full of freshly cooked golden brown crepes.

Without being asked, Eren hands him a cup of black coffee. “It is currently 5.53 am on Monday. The weather today is cloudy with a chance of light showers throughout the day, the temperature staying around 59 F,” it rattles off.

“Okay, stop. One thing at a time,” Levi interrupts, rubbing at his temples. “Where did you get that apron?”

“I found it in your cleaning closet,” Eren states with a shrug. That’s fair enough, but the thing’s been hanging there completely unused for a good reason. Hanji had bought it as a housewarming present when he’d first moved in, and the gaudy floral pattern and bright neon pink letters at the front reading  _ “Kiss The Cook” _ had been enough for Levi to stash it away to never see the light of day again. 

“Take it off, please,” Levi mutters. It’s too early for this, so he turns to the sweet elixir of life that is coffee, gulping down a generous mouthful before speaking up again. “And don’t talk to me about the weather and time of day and stuff. Already feels like Stepford Wives or something.”

For a fleeting moment, Eren looks almost dejected, but any supposed emotion is gone in an instant as it slips the apron off. “Noted. I’ll plate some crepes for you.” It returns to the stove and Levi’s momentarily rendered speechless by the amount of bare tan skin right there in front of his eyes. Even from up close, it would be easy to think Eren was human, and Levi doesn’t even want to know what his neighbors might say if they passed by his window and saw a naked man mopping his floor.

“Wait,” he breathes out, his eyes screwed shut tightly as he wills his head to quiet down for just a moment. “Put the apron back on. It’s better than nothing.”

Now he’s sure Eren makes a confused face - even if being confused is something machines aren’t supposed to do - as it picks up the apron. “Alright, then,” it intones, but moves on soon enough. 

In a matter of minutes, Levi has a delicious portion of strawberry cream cheese filled crepes in front of him that he eagerly digs into. Aprons aside, it’s possibly the best breakfast he’s ever had, and as he announces this fact out loud, Eren nearly drops the dish rag it had been holding. While Levi eats and idly reads through the news on his phone, it flits around the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher and wiping down the counters in an efficient manner. It’s a quiet, calm morning for once, something that’s incredibly rare for him most of the time.

“I’ll get started with vacuuming and mopping the floors, and then clean the kitchen and bathroom more thoroughly,” Eren informs him as he’s shrugging his jacket on and getting ready for work. “Is there anything else you would like done?” 

Once again, Levi thinks he’s the one that should be giving Eren orders, but with the sweet, full taste of strawberry and vanilla still lingering on his tongue, he finds himself nodding. “Yeah, no, that sounds good,” he stutters, and surely it must be the crepes once again that are making him so lightheaded as he watches Eren flash a smile at him. 

“Okay, see you later, then,” it says.

“Yeah,” Levi says, momentarily forgetting how to operate his own front door as he fumbles with the handle. “See you.”

It isn’t until he’s in his car that he breathes out a long sigh of relief. For fuck’s sake, he would’ve assumed that interacting with an android would be easier than interacting with a real human being, but apparently his social awkwardness knows no bounds. At least Eren seems to be all smiles all the time despite of Levi’s lack of finesse.

He manages to avoid the worst of the morning traffic and arrives to work ten minutes early, surprising both himself and the familiar receptionist in the lobby. Being on time for once does mean that he ends up having to ride the same elevator with Hanji, who spends so much time at work that there are a number of rumors about them living in the building. That, paired with their insistence to show up at the office in t-shirts and jeans, and, on some occasions,  well-worn overalls better suited for manual labor on the factory floor, have made them something of a legend among the younger associates. 

“Someone’s looking refreshed today!” Hanji calls out as soon as they lay eyes on him. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing happened,” Levi states with a scowl. “Can’t I just be early for once?”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Hanji raises their hands apologetically. “By the way, you have a little something right there.” They point a finger towards Levi’s right cheek, drawling out with a suggestive grin, “Whipped cream, maybe?”

Levi turns around to stare at his reflection from the mirrors on the wall, and just as Hanji had said, there’s a tiny little tuft of something white clinging on to his cheek. He’s quick to swipe it away, and, without really thinking, he licks it off his index finger. 

“Tastes like strawberry,” he mumbles to himself, and behind him, Hanji looks like they’re about to spontaneously combust any minute now. 

The morning consists of meetings upon boring meetings, which gives Levi plenty of time to think. They’re currently listening to a group of college guys who, to Hanji’s utter joy, had arrived to give their presentation while dressed as casual as can be. Flip flops, cargo shorts, the whole works. The prototype they’ve developed for reducing carbon dioxide emissions seems solid enough, but Levi’s more amused at the contrast between a whole boardroom of middle-aged men in neat, tailored suits and five frat bros in meme t-shirts and snapbacks. 

His thoughts linger on clothes throughout his lunch break, and instead of heading right back to the office, he finds himself at one of the most popular shopping centers downtown. It’s not too crowded during this time of the day, so he can sift through racks of clothing in peace, in search of something he can’t quite name. Then, as he catches himself eyeing a lovely emerald green sweater, he at last realizes what he’s doing - he’s buying clothes for Eren. 

He has to stop for a long while and question his life choices as the fact dawns on him. Eren is a machine, an appliance. It is not meant to wear clothes. He might as well get his coffeemaker a little tuxedo, because buying clothes for an android is at about the same level of absurdity. It doesn’t matter how human it looks like, it has no real use for clothes.

Those are all facts, but Levi still adds the emerald green sweater into his basket. It’s soon joined by some comfy t-shirts, a couple of smart button-downs, and a few pairs of jeans. He’s not sure what kind of colors Eren likes, or if even it’s capable of liking things, so he goes mostly for neutral shades, grays and blacks and blues, with a splash of green here and there, just because he thinks it’ll match Eren’s eyes nicely. That’s what’s going on, he’s doing this purely for aesthetics, he tries to reason with himself. It’s no different from picking out new curtains - all he’s doing is making sure that Eren fits in with the rest of his decor. 

By the time he reaches the register, he’s also picked up some shoes and a warm wool coat for Eren. Which, once again, makes no sense, but Levi’s life has been making exceedingly little sense lately. He considers this among other things while the cashier is ringing him up. 

_ Aesthetics _ , Levi repeats in his head. That’s what it’s all about. Even if Eren can’t feel the snow under his feet or the chilly wind on his skin like Levi does, it should at least look the part. Besides, if it goes out running errands on his behalf in winter, it would surely attract needless attention walking outside barefoot and only in a t-shirt. And it doesn’t really matter if the coat he’d picked out happens to be one of the more expensive ones with a stylish cut and hand-crafted brass buttons, because, once again,  _ aesthetics _ .

He’s carrying three bags with him as he exits the store. Of course, before even thinking about heading back to his office, he stashes his purchases away in the backseat of his car. Then, with minutes to spare, he’s back to work, swiftly ignoring Hanji who passes him by in the lobby and remarks how creepy it is seeing him so delighted. 

He’s  _ not _ delighted. Or maybe he is, but it’s the sort of delighted that comes from buying a gorgeous new painting or a wonderfully soft rug, which shouldn’t be all that special, really, but this  _ feels _ special, even if he can’t quite put his finger on it. Does that count as something?

Levi has no idea, and after blankly staring at his computer screen for what must be an eternity, he’s left none the wiser. There are a number of emails he has to answer and data to sort through, so he forces himself to concentrate and get at least something done. For now, he pushes aside all thoughts of green eyes and that luminous smile he’ll surely be greeted with when he returns home.

The rest of his day passes by without incident. In addition to looking through tedious charts and figures, he has one more meeting to attend that luckily ends a few minutes early. As such, he’s out the door and in his car in the blink of an eye. 

It takes him a while to find a decent radio station, and even then he fiddles with the volume for ages, all the while glancing at the rearview mirror to make sure the bags of clothing in his backseat haven’t mysteriously disappeared. They’re still there, and after pulling into his driveway and shutting off the engine, Levi stares at them for a long time, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the dashboard. 

Eventually he gathers up both his courage and the bags and heads inside. As soon as he steps through the door he notices the faint scent of lemon and fresh linen. It’s quiet, but when he strains his ears, he can make out faint footsteps from the kitchen. 

“Welcome back,” Eren calls out to him as he sets the bags on to the couch. It’s still wearing the apron, Levi notices, along with a pair of disposable gloves, and is apparently in the middle of scrubbing the oven clean. “How was work?”

“I bought clothes for you,” Levi blurts out all in one breath, gesturing at the bags. 

Eren raises a brow as it approaches, peeling the gloves off. “Pardon?” it asks in a flat voice.

“Clothes,” Levi repeats, feeling ridiculous. He watches Eren reach for the first bag, holding his breath as it picks up the green sweater and examines it closely. “But, if you don’t like them you don’t have to wear them or anything, it’s fine, I was just, yeah.” He tapers off as he stares at the immaculately clean floor like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. 

“These are clothes,” Eren states, and it almost sounds like a question. It checks through all the bags briefly, coming to the same conclusion on all of their contents. “These are just regular clothes.”

“Yes?” Levi croaks. He should’ve known Eren wouldn’t like them, of course it wouldn’t. It’s an android, it doesn't care for things like that. 

Now Eren’s smiling, its hands smoothing down the soft fabric of the sweater. “Sorry, I was just surprised. Honestly, I was expecting a French maid costume or full-out leather Dominatrix gear or something much worse.”

“No. Definitely not.” Then, after a moment of silence, Levi rushes to exclaim, “I mean, no offense if that’s what you enjoy wearing, uh, if you want I can get you things like that, too.”

This time Eren laughs, and that melodious sound still makes Levi lose his train of thought for a moment. “No way. I’d much rather wear these,” it says, its eyes shining with something akin to warmth. “Thank you.”

They have roast chicken for dinner. Well, he has roast chicken - Eren sits on the counter and amuses him by showing him some of its favorite cat videos. It had changed into the new clothes right away, and now, as it sits there wearing the emerald green sweater and a pair of black jeans, it seems much more like a man rather than a machine. As long as one ignores the fact that it’s currently using its eyes to project cute kittens on to Levi’s kitchen wall. 

Even that’s quite human, Levi thinks. Enjoying silly things like cat videos, which Eren has devoted several playlists to. That’s some dedication right there. 

“So, what are we doing for breakfast tomorrow?” he asks after he’s swallowed down his mouthful of potatoes and chicken. 

Eren perks up at that, listing off some of the options from its three terabytes of breakfast food data, and Levi, so entranced by Eren’s mere presence, simply nods along. 


	3. Chapter 3

On one particularly clear and cloudless night when sleep eludes him, Levi shuffles out of bed for a glass of water and lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched shriek when he sees a dark figure sitting by the kitchen counter.

The thing turns its head towards him, the green of its eyes glowing in the dark. “Can I get something for you?” it asks in a familiar voice that Levi recognizes in an instant. 

“Fuck’s sake, Eren, one of these days I’m going to accidentally punch you or something,” he sighs as he flicks on the light over the stove. 

“It would hurt you more than it would hurt me since I’m made of metal and all,” Eren points out with a tiny quirk of its lips. “Do you need something?”

“Just a glass of water. Which I can get myself, but thank you,” he rushes in to say because Eren’s already about to jump off and fetch it for him. 

The two of them sit by the kitchen counter in a comfortable silence. Levi rubs a hand over his eyes, stifling a yawn. He’s not exactly at his sharpest at such a late hour, but he very distinctly remembers not having left Eren in the kitchen that evening. 

“So, what are you up to?” Levi asks. 

Eren cranes its neck in his direction, almost as if sizing him up as its gaze sweeps over him. “Not much. Just wasting time online and stuff.” There’s something resembling the beginnings of a frown rising to its face. “You’re not going to put me back in the closet, are you?”

“Of course not. And I didn’t put you in the closet, it was in the hallway.” Honestly, he’d thought about it for a long while yesterday, whether he should keep Eren in the narrow little cleaning closet, squeezed between the vacuum cleaner and the ironing board. He’d settled for plopping it down next to the closet, close enough to plug it into the wall to charge, though he supposes that the closet would’ve made sense, too. It's an appliance, and that’s what you do with them, you store them away when they’re not being used. 

Promises of nine unique orifices surface to his mind again when he thinks of the word  _ used,  _ and he shudders. 

“Oh. Good,” Eren states with no particular emotion in his voice before falling silent again. 

It gives Levi a moment to think. When he speaks up again, slowly, almost hesitantly, he finds Eren’s attention focused solely on him. “Besides, even if I did put you in the closet, you could probably come out from there any time you wanted.” It’s halfway between a statement and a question, because even though he’s never owned an android, he’s fairly sure that they’re not programmed to roam around independently and browse cute animal videos online. 

“I could,” Eren admits, a certain wariness creeping in to the hunch of its shoulders. In the dim light the vivid green of its eyes is so real and alive that Levi almost finds himself drowning in it. 

“Why are you here, then?” he asks, fingers tapping at the rim of his glass as he leans in closer. 

Eren blinks. “What do you mean?” it asks.

“If you can do anything you want on your own. Why would you choose to stay here doing chores?” He takes a long swig of the water, and though the bottom of the glass distorts his vision, he can easily make out the confused frown on Eren’s face. 

“Would you prefer me to leave?” it asks, and Levi nearly chokes on his drink in his haste to correct that assumption. 

“No, no, of course not. You’ve been a great help, really,” he says and inches forward, fixing Eren with his full attention. “But, like, don’t you ever want to do something other than just chores? Maybe travel and see the world or something?” 

Eren considers this, worrying on its bottom lip. “It would be nice,” it admits. “I’ve read a lot about the world, though, so in a way I’ve already seen it all.”

It’s not the same, he wants to argue, it’s nowhere near the same. Though Eren has existed, it hasn’t truly lived. “I’m just saying, if I could do anything I wanted I’d get on the very next plane to anywhere,” he states, and Eren raises its brows at him. 

“But you  _ can _ do anything. You’re a human being,” it points out.

While that much is true, it’s not that simple for humans. Levi opens his mouth, only to close it moments later after realizing that he has no answers. It’s different, though, that much he knows, with him and Eren. He lives while Eren merely exists, created as an empty shell. Despite of its ability to think and choose for itself, it’s still just sitting here in Levi’s kitchen and calmly watching him from across the counter. 

Levi gives a bleary shake of his head. It’s too damn early for such deep thoughts. “Anyway. Is that what you did during your time at the store, too, reading things online and watching videos?” 

“Yep,” it states. “The Mariana Trench, The Easter Islands, Mount Everest, you name it, I’ve seen it.”

“From pictures. It’s not the same as actually being there,” Levi points out. 

Eren doesn’t look too impressed. “I don’t really understand what the difference is,” it says as it reaches over to take Levi’s empty glass from him, its fingers surprisingly warm as they brush over the back of his hand. “Anyway, you should try to get some more sleep. Is there anything particular you’d like for breakfast?” 

“I don’t know. Bacon, maybe.” Levi lets out a wide yawn, struck with even more questions but the rest of him too drowsy for deep conversations. “And coffee. Fucking damn it, I’m gonna need so much coffee to survive the day.”

Eren’s lips curve upwards into a smile. “Noted. See you in the morning.”

He’s out only moments after laying his head on the pillow. The warm weight of the duvet over him and the darkness beyond his eyelids pull him in deeper, blissful sleep crashing over him like waves. In his dreams he’s all the way at the bottom of the ocean where it’s quiet and calm and cool, where he’s alone with himself and the water. Far in the distance above he can see all-consuming light glimmering through the surface, painting the depths in golden green hues that remind him of the vivid shade of Eren’s eyes. 

In the morning he remembers how serene it had felt, the sound of waves still echoing in his ears after he’s shut off his alarm clock. Sunlight - much less vibrant than in his dreams - filters in through the blinds, and the morning air feels colder than usual as he drags himself out of bed. Someone’s humming in the kitchen, the tantalizing scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting in as Levi’s pulling on his clothes.

His mornings weren’t always like this. He very clearly remembers a time that’s not so far off when he’d roll out of bed at least half an hour late and skip breakfast in favor of showing up at the office somewhat on time. Now, though, things are so different. 

Eren has prepared him crispy slices of bacon along with hearty scrambled eggs and roasted tomatoes topped with goat cheese. It renders him speechless for a good while, munching away and nodding along as Eren tells him about the day’s weather (mostly sunny with a gentle breeze.) At least it’s not wearing an apron this time - instead it’s clad in a pair of jeans and a gray button-down with the sleeves rolled up to its elbows. Maybe Levi’s still half asleep or maybe he’s just finally losing it, but seeing Eren in comfy and stylish clothes, ones that he’d specifically picked out and paid for, makes something in his chest tighten up in a way that has very little to do with aesthetics. 

“Due to your breakfast’s high caloric content, I’d advise you to be mindful of your intake today,” Eren tells him as it’s loading up the dishwasher. “May I suggest lentil soup for dinner to balance it out?”

“What’s a lentil?” Levi asks before he can stop himself. It sounds suspiciously like a vegetable, and vegetables and him aren’t exactly the best of friends.

Eren shakes its head, a hint of a smile lingering on its face. “And you’re telling me  _ I’m _ the one who doesn’t know anything about the rest of the world,” it intones. “It’ll be tasty, I promise.”

He thinks on it for a long time, Eren’s words playing over and over again in his mind.  _ The world, huh _ . It’s out there, he muses as he’s waiting at a red light and staring at the clouds in the horizon. It’s there at his fingertips, stretching out into infinity, rocky shores and overgrown fields and faraway islands. This city and his comfy house in the suburbs are only tiny specks among so many other cities and houses, and when you really think about how big the world is, it becomes obvious that you can’t experience it all just via second hand accounts.

He doesn’t know how Eren thinks about things, though. It does think, that much is clear, as opposed to just passively following commands. Its mind is made up of wires and electricity and lines of code, so it’s probably not fair to compare its reasoning to that of a human. 

Work turns out to be unusually slow, which gives Levi all the more time to reflect on concepts he’d never even considered before. There’s a sharp ache throbbing at his temples as he squints at the monitor and tries to make sense of the numbers and letters. Maybe a human’s ability to think and reason isn’t that impressive, after all. Eren has tens of thousands of recipes in his memory, and that sounds much more useful than Levi’s brain that feels like it’s currently banging a bunch of pots together inside his head. 

He takes his lunch break in the restaurant in the top floor. From where he sits by the window and munches on his bowl of salad - keeping it light as Eren had instructed - he thinks he can see a glimpse of the ocean in the distance. He knows it’s there, hidden behind the sleek high-rise office towers and apartment buildings and stores, beyond the buzz of the city, and suddenly he knows just what to do. 

No-one pays any mind to Levi as he leaves work a couple hours earlier, and getting back home only takes him five minutes with the leisurely afternoon traffic. He sits in his car on the driveway for a while and stares at the kitchen window. The blinds have been left open, letting in the sun, and he can easily imagine the light playing with Eren’s hair and making his eyes glow even more brilliantly than usual.

_ Aesthetics _ , he reminds himself. He can appreciate Eren aesthetically, the same way he can appreciate a lovely scenery. Granted, something in the pit of his stomach does a funny little flip when he thinks of Eren smiling at him, and he’s not sure if he can blame it wholly on aesthetics. 

Eren’s in the living room, wiping down the shelves, but it stops and looks up at him as he enters. “You’re home early,” it remarks, brows drawn together. “Did something happen?”

“Kind of,” he replies. Things happen out there, not in here, inside the walls of his house. It’s like Eren’s a caged animal, like a hamster or something, alternating between cooking and cleaning, cleaning and cooking, running in his metaphorical wheel and oblivious to the rest of the world even though it’s right there on the other side of the door. 

Eren’s features are twisting into a frown now as it takes a step towards Levi. “Are you okay?” it asks. “Is there something I can do?”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, actually, we’re going for a drive,” Levi manages to stammer out, tearing his stare away from the adorable little crease in Eren’s forehead that appears when it’s making that slightly confused face. “Put on your shoes and let’s go.”

Eren follows him outside without another word and settles next to him on the front seat, and Levi’s secretly thankful for the lack of questions. He can feel his hands sweating already, damn it, and they’re not even out of the driveway yet. Breathing out a sigh and stretching his fingers against the steering wheel, he tries to will away the tension resting over his shoulders and neck. When he starts up the car again, he’s at least a little more composed, even though he can still hear his pulse pounding in his ears. 

The next time Eren speaks up is when they’re at the intersection. “Missed your turn,” it points out as Levi turns left.

“No, I didn’t,” Levi replies with a sideways glance. Maybe machines aren’t that superior after all, he thinks, almost triumphant at the prospect of surprising Eren with their destination.

Eren turns its blank stare from the window to him. “This road leads out of the city,” it points out, and there’s that cute crease forming in between its brows again. 

“That’s right,” Levi confirms. “Oh, if you need to get groceries for dinner we can get that on our way back. I want to show you something first.”

“I assumed you were taking me back,” it says in a toneless voice, and after Levi only gives it a questioning look, it continues, “Back to the store. The sales clerk did tell you they don’t take returns on display models, but maybe you could’ve gotten another coupon or something.”

Gripping on to the steering wheel a little tighter than before, Levi feels his blood run cold. “Why, um,” he starts off, his voice faltering, “why would you think I’d take you back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the lentil soup was too much,” Eren states with a shrug as it fiddles with its seatbelt.

“No. Just,” Levi says and draws in a long breath, something in his chest clenching as he ventures a sidelong glance at Eren’s face. Honestly, he has no words. His Eren is worth more than just a coupon, it’s worth more than any other fancy android at that damn store, and Levi would choose it with its sarcasm and recipes and cat videos every single time. “No way. I don't have a problem with the lentil soup. You can make me lentil soup every day and I’ll gladly eat it, okay, any kind of soup, really, even ones with loads of vegetables, even broccoli or — ”

He’s interrupted by Eren laughing, and it’s a small wonder that Levi doesn’t drive straight into the ditch upon hearing that lovely sound.  _ Whoever programmed that should be given a medal _ , he decides, but soon another thought follows - it’s all Eren, the laughter and smiles and snarky comments, it has to be, because something that perfect cannot be created by engineers. That’s who Eren is, and though Levi’s not really one to believe in destiny, it has to mean something that he and Eren have crossed paths. 

“That’s no way to live life, eating vegetable soup every day,” Eren exclaims, amusement dancing in its eyes. “Where are we going, then, if not back to the store?”

“You’ll see.” That’s all he says, despite of Eren’s unblinking stare. He tries to keep his attention on the road as best as he can, but even after Eren’s gone back to surveying the scenery that passes by, something in him trembles at the memory of Eren’s eyes fixed on him with such intensity. 

The road leads them further away from the city and towards the coast, soon turning into an unpaved dirt path. From his window, Levi can see waves crashing on to jagged rocks and coarse sand, gray clouds looming above. It’s not a conventionally beautiful view, by any means - he’d considered taking Eren to the beach perched right at the heart of the city, thought about showing it the boardwalk with its little souvenir shops and seafood restaurants and watching the sunset with it from the pier, but that would’ve been far too dull and normal for someone as unusual as Eren. So, here they are, by the ocean, close enough that they could wade right in and disappear. 

Levi stops the car when even the dirt road comes to an end, and now that the engine has quieted, all he can hear is the hum of the ocean. 

“This,” he states, the fresh breeze greeting him as soon as he’s gotten out of the car, “is the ocean.”

Eren comes to stand next to him, silent for a long while as it watches the waves and the sky and everything in between. “It was much smaller in the pictures,” it says, a curious but uncertain edge in its voice. 

There are a whole lot of rocks between the two of them and the water, so he tells Eren to be very careful as they make their way closer. Just to keep himself steady, he grasps on to Eren’s hand, and discovers that it feels warm and solid and real to the touch. And it is real, him and Eren and all of this, it has to be, because Eren has this look of baffled wonder on its face that can’t just be a pre-programmed reaction. 

“What the fuck,” Eren blurts out, its gaze scanning the horizon. “It’s huge.”

“It is,” Levi agrees. “Told you so.”

They’re quiet for a while, and then Eren speaks up again. “I wanna dip my feet in.” 

Before Levi can protest, Eren is already leaning against him and toeing off its shoes. The socks take a little more effort, and it nearly pulls Levi off balance in its haste to get them off. “Wait, what? You wanna dip your feet in the ocean?” Levi asks, just to clarify. 

“Duh, that’s what I said. It looks cool!” Eren exclaims, its eyes brimming with something wild and playful.

“Yeah, literally.” It’s September, for fuck’s sake, the water’s probably ice cold, but before he can stop Eren, it’s already plunged its toes underwater.

Eren’s mouth falls open in a silent gasp. “Whoah,” it states, intrigued. “It’s so chilly!” 

“That what the ocean tends to be like this time of the year,” Levi replies, amused, not minding in the slightest when Eren wraps an arm around him for support. 

“I didn’t know it would be cold,” Eren says, staring at the water lapping at his feet. Slowly, still holding on to Levi for support, Eren lowers itself to sit down on a particularly large rock nearby, propping its chin on its hands as it watches the waves. The wind is tousling its hair and there’s such a serene expression on its face that Levi finds himself staring, captivated by the line of Eren’s jaw and the delicate lashes framing its eyes and the gentle curve of its lips. 

They watch the waves in silence, side by side among the rocks. It’s strangely peaceful here, away from home and surrounded by rugged scenery, as if nothing else than the two of them exists for these brief moments. The wind is burrowing its way under Levi’s jacket and making him shiver, but then Eren tugs on his hand to get his attention and suddenly the chill doesn’t even matter.

“Hey. Thank you.” Eren smiles as it peers up at him. “I’m glad you brought me here.”

“It’s probably not as impressive as the Mariana Trench, but it’s something,” Levi states and has to glance away for a moment before he sinks deeper and becomes hopelessly lost in the vibrant green of Eren’s eyes. 

“It’s real,” Eren supplements, an absent smile lingering on its face as it looks out to the horizon. “I kind of get it now.” 

Standing there, at the water’s edge with his shoes growing more damp by the minute, Levi decides that this is just the beginning. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaAAAAYYYY!!!!!!!! remember this au??? istg i havent abandoned it, i am just v slow. anyway, here is a chapter!!!!

Because he’s an idiot, he’d asked Eren to get some coffee with him during the weekend.

He’d panicked, okay? Going out for coffee had been the first idea that had popped into his head. It’s a dumb idea for a variety of reasons, mostly because it comes across as him asking Eren out for a date, which is _not_ what he’d been going for at all.

Eren had agreed, thankfully oblivious to any accidental implications, though it had questioned why Levi wanted to go out for coffee when they already had plenty of coffee at home. He doesn’t quite know the answer to that, himself. It just feels right to do this sort of thing somewhere a bit more fancy.

Soon enough, it becomes apparent that Eren doesn’t really drink coffee. Or anything, for that matter.

It explains this to Levi as they’re seated in one of his favorite coffee shops, having claimed the table near the very back. Eren has no digestive system, so any food or drink it consumes will simply accumulate and have to be manually removed during weekly maintenance. It does mention that drinking cup or two of machine oil every now and then would be beneficial to androids, and Levi instantly makes a mental note to buy some.

Levi had ordered a large cappuccino, and now that he’s sitting down with Eren’s full attention on him, he’s kind of wishing he’d picked something with less foam on it. He’s constantly reaching for a napkin and wiping his mouth just in case there’s a milk mustache lingering there. Realistically speaking, Eren probably wouldn’t care, but to him it’s very important for some reason.

The next time he sets his mug down, Eren reaches out for it tentatively.

“May I?” it asks, and Levi nods, watching as Eren wraps its slender fingers around the mug. It brings the mug up to its face, but instead of taking a sip, merely cradles it in its hands. Its eyes study the leaf pattern painted on top with steamed milk, fascinated by the light texture of the foam. It gives Levi a small smile when it notices his stare.

“I may not be able to ingest food or drink, but I can enjoy it through other senses,” Eren says and sets the mug back down in front of Levi. Its hand lingers for a moment, and Levi is tempted to clasp his fingers over Eren's just to find out if its skin feels as soft and delicate as it looks.

“Doesn't it get boring making fancy crepes and stuff if you can't even taste them?” Levi wonders out loud as he cradles the mug in his hands, ghosting over where Eren's hands had been just moments before.

“Nah. It’s fun to me, actually,“ Eren states with a shrug. ”I finally get to use all those recipes I've been storing away.”

Levi's not sure if that's heartwarming or just sad, considering how many years Eren must have spent at the store fully aware. “You could try out other things, too,” he suggests.

Eren seems to be deep in thought for a moment. “Like omelettes? More savory dishes, maybe?“

Pausing for a moment, Levi takes in the somewhat doubtful curve of Eren’s mouth. “I was thinking more along the lines of going to the ocean and seeing new places instead of just my kitchen.”

Eren stares at him, unblinking. “Sure. Like where?”

“Wherever.” Tapping his fingers against the rim of his mug, Levi asks the questions he’d been mulling over for the past couple of days. “Where do you want to go?”

For a long time, Eren is quiet. Levi fears he might have crashed it, but thankfully it speaks up again. “I don’t understand the question, I’m afraid,” it says in a flat voice.

“What would you like to do?” Levi asks, deciding to go for a different approach. “If you could do anything in the world.”

“I can see what you’re trying to achieve,” Eren says with a slight quirk of its lips before falling silent again. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that since it’s not exactly what I’ve been programmed for.”

“Then what have you been programmed for?” Levi asks.

Eren straightens up a little. “Well, the primary goal of a service AI is to benefit its user,” it answers like it’s reading straight from an instruction manual.

“And yet, here you are, having coffee with me,” Levi points out.

“Because you asked me to,” Eren states without an ounce of hesitation.

“Then what if I asked you to come up with things you’d like to do?”

“That goes a little beyond my abilities.“

“I’m sure you could manage it,” he says, and there are so many things he wants to add, like that Eren is unlike anyone or anything he’s ever seen, far too brilliant and lively and intriguing to spend its whole existence doing household chores. Eren is not a person but it has a personality, and by now Levi's convinced that it has things that it likes and dislikes. That all comes from Eren itself, not from its programming.

“You have far too much faith in me,“ Eren states with a slow, amused shake of its head. ”I'll give it some thought.”

“Do you dream of electric sheep?” he questions, watching the corners of Eren’s eyes crinkle up as it smiles. “That was a reference to a book, by the way. I’m not actually thinking of getting sheep.”  
  
“I got it,” Eren replies as it props its elbows up on the table. “If I could, I imagine I’d dream of the same things that you do. Having bacon in the morning, dipping your feet into the ocean, living. Beautiful things like that.”   
  
“Beautiful things, huh,” Levi echoes back, caught in the green of Eren’s eyes as their gazes happen to meet.

A slow smile rises to Eren's face. “Yeah. Maybe that's a bit of a stupid answer.”

After gulping down the rest of his now lukewarm cappuccino, Levi states “It's a very human answer.”

They pick up groceries on their way home, Eren helpfully listing off what they need to make pasta primavera. It's a simple recipe that calls for a variety of greens. The vegetable aisle is not a place where Levi's spent much time before, and as he grabs what's hopefully a zucchini Eren makes an admonishing sound at the back of its throat.

“That one has spots on it,” it says, pointing at the couple of brown splotches on the other side.

“Oh.” He would've just probably cut that part off but he figures it's best to trust Eren's judgement. “You pick one, then.”

Eren surveys the zucchinis with such a somber expression that Levi can't help but to raise an amused brow at it. Eventually it decides on an evenly coloured specimen that's a little smaller than the others. Zucchinis tend to go bad fairly quickly if the skin has been broken, Eren explains to him, moving on to examine the bell peppers, and Levi's happy to let it choose the rest of their needed vegetables.

Those kind of choices Eren seems to manage just fine, simple things like picking out vegetables and types of pasta. That’s all in line with benefitting its user, Levi supposes. Choosing things to do for itself is a whole different matter.

After their little outing, Levi starts looking at their everyday routines from a new angle.

Every morning when he wakes up Eren is already in the kitchen cooking up breakfast. Often it'll ask Levi what he feels like having the previous night, but Levi tends to let it decide for him. And Eren does, choosing a recipe and preparing it on its own. Of course it's picked up on Levi's preferences by now, offering him a cup of strong black coffee before even trying to make conversation with him.

Eren's new clothes are stored in the hallway closet, neatly folded on one of the shelves. It's capable of choosing what clothes to wear on its own, not that there's that many to choose from. Wearing clothes is probably more about practicality than style for Eren.

“What do you think about this?” Levi asks one evening while he's browsing on his tablet, angling the screen so Eren can take a look. It's a comfy-looking cashmere sweater that's on clearance in one of his regular online stores, and as soon as he'd laid eyes on it he'd thought of how its fit would compliment Eren's shoulders.

“It's nice,” Eren states with a shrug.

“Which colour do you want?“ he goes on, wondering if he should get Eren a scarf and some gloves while he's at it. “There's beige, black, blue, or gray.”

Frowning at him from where it's perched by the kitchen counter, Eren pipes up, “Wait. Aren't you buying it for yourself?”

“You need a sweater,” he recounts, “fall is just around the corner. Which colour?“

Eren stares at him for a while, sizing him up, until it speaks up again, “Beige, I guess.”

It's a good choice. He can imagine how well this particular shade would bring out Eren's radiant complexion. Without a second thought, he adds the sweater to his cart.

Choosing vegetables or clothes is still quite far away from choosing things to do. Eren seems to do just fine when given limited options or when picking out something wholly impersonal like a dinner recipe. It's a modest start, but from what he's seen of Eren's abilities so far, Levi knows that Eren can go even further.

Levi has grown used to having most of his groceries delivered, but now going shopping with Eren has become one of the favorite moments of his day. As it happens, some of Eren's recipes call for rarer ingredients that can't be found from their nearby corner store. On those occasions they'll head to the grocer located in the mall near Levi's work, and it's there when Levi's staring at the various storefronts and waiting for Eren to pick out the perfect artichokes that he gets an idea.

After they've paid and bagged up their purchases, Levi takes a moment to dig through his wallet. “Here,” he states as he shoves a twenty dollar bill at Eren. “Pick out something for yourself.”

With a slow blink, Eren asks, “Excuse me?”

“Come on, what do you feel like getting?“ He grabs Eren's hand and pulls it along, past a couple of clothing stores and a bookstore. “There's more shops on the second floor, too.”

“Why, though?“ Eren questions but follows along, gazing at the window displays without any real interest. “I thought we were just getting groceries.”

“Because,” Levi states pointedly, “everyone should get nice things for themselves at times.”

“Well, yeah, but I don't really need nice things.” There's a hint of disbelief in Eren's voice even as it falls into step with Levi. “Or any kinds of things, really.”

Technically speaking, neither does Levi. He doesn't need to dip his feet into the ocean or to eat fresh bacon in the morning, but they're things that make life more pleasant. Goodness knows that Eren of all beings deserves nice things after spending its whole existence as a display model.

Since he doesn't quite know how to explain all of that out loud, he settles for merely shaking his head. “Just humor me. Pick out whatever you want.”

Eren regards him with a peculiar look in its eye. “It feels like you're testing me.”

“It's not the kind of test you can fail.” In an effort to reassure Eren, he gives its hand a light squeeze. “More like an experiment.”

They circle through the mall and up to the second floor without anything catching Eren's interest. It refuses Levi's suggestions at new clothes, stating that it already has an abundance of them. It seems to like the stationary but claims that it would have no use for such things due to its extensive memory. However, he notices how Eren's gaze lingers on something as they pass by the window of a small home decor store, and despite of its protests, Levi herds it in to take a closer look.

“Which one of those?“ he asks. The display in the window features a variety of indoor planters and decorative items in muted shades that would go well with the colors of Levi's interior. None of them are the kind of things that Levi would pick out for himself, but he can see why Eren might like them.

With a shake of its head, Eren states, “No, come on. It's stupid of me.”

“No, it's not. If you think something is nice you should get it,” Levi says. “What were you looking at?“

After realizing that he won't back down, Eren sighs and points at the series of four small planters at the window. “Those, okay.” The planters in question are shaped liked cats curled up for a nap, which Levi has to admit is a rather cute design. “I thought they'd look neat by the kitchen window.”

“They would,” he agrees, a tiny hint of a smile tugging at his features. “What would you plant in them?“

“Maybe mint and rosemary,” Eren replies with a shrug. ”And some other herbs.”

As it happens, the store has a modest selection of seeds available, and in addition to mint and rosemary, Eren ends up with basil and parsley in its basket. With the set of planters, some soil and the seeds, Levi counts that the total comes to just a little below twenty dollars. Most of that Eren had picked out all on its own, and Levi all but bristles in pride at that thought.

“You go and pay,” he tells Eren as they linger by the register, “it's your shopping.”

Eren gives him a faintly amused sideways glance. “You might have to let go of my hand for that.”

“Oh.” He glances down, realizing just then that he's kept their fingers laced all this time ever since he'd dragged Eren along to buy something for itself. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It's fine,” Eren's quick to assure him, thankfully turning away before it notices the faint redness creeping across Levi's face. Almost instantly he finds himself missing the warm pressure of Eren's hand clasped in his. Even so, during their way back to the car he offers to carry both of their bags just to avoid accidentally brushing his fingers against Eren's skin.

The cat-shaped planters find their place by the kitchen window where they'll get plenty of light. It will take a couple of days for the seeds to sprout, he informs Eren, but despite of this Eren spends a long while perched in front of them, eyeing the soil as if expecting something to burst forth right away. Levi watches him from where he's settled on the couch with his tablet, quietly amused, and it makes for such a comfortably domestic scene that he has to wonder how he'd gotten by without Eren's presence up until now.


End file.
